


The Savior Who Came to Tear my Life Apart

by MissMacaron



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-16 09:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21033674
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMacaron/pseuds/MissMacaron
Summary: Dorothea was all set for her debut as the newest diva in the Mittelfrank Opera Company when her witness of a scandal put her in danger. Manuela orchestrated a safe place for her to hide: as the new handmaiden to the heiress of the von Hresvelg family.Edelgard had things she wanted to hide from, too. Her vivacious new handmaiden could help.





	The Savior Who Came to Tear my Life Apart

**Author's Note:**

> Thematically based on The Handmaiden film.

“Miss, wake up. We’re here.”

Dorothea opened her eyes, blinking the fog out of them, and sat up, stretching her arms over her head. Her shoulders and back ached with the movement, but all the same, she felt better for it; both because it meant warming up her muscles and because the pop and pain distracted her from her tiredness. It hadn’t been a particularly restful sleep; sleeping in the back of a carriage never was.

Especially when that carriage ride was bringing one closer to a different life.

It was raining, but the driver was kind enough to offer Dorothea the umbrella when she stepped out of the carriage. The sky was a dreary gray and the rain spat upon the ground, creating mud puddles that splashed up on her drab boots. She didn’t let it show upon her face, but she was displeased by her getup, a far cry from the glamorous dresses she’d worn as a part of the opera, and the glittery stilettos she’d grown accustomed to wearing made these low-heeled, cheap things appear pathetic. However, they were the only shoes she had now, so she had to take care of them, as she did the equally depressing gray travel dress she wore.

As soon as she reached the safety of the overhang in front of the door, the carriage driver bowed and returned to his carriage, driving away.

_ Great. There goes my getaway. _

Dorothea took a deep breath to steel herself and raised a hand to knock on the door.

It swung open before she made contact, and she nearly hit an elderly woman in the face.

“Hello. Follow me.” The woman spoke without emotion or expression, and turned quickly, walking away. Dorothea hurried inside, accidentally slamming the door behind her, though the woman did not flinch at the sound. She was fast, and despite the stark height difference between them, Dorothea had to hustle to keep up.

“You will be tending to Lady Edelgard, the lady of the house. You will sleep in the quarters adjacent to hers. You will bring her her breakfast in the morning. You are in charge of getting her out of bed. You will help her change. You will help her bathe. You will attend to her during her many lessons throughout the day. You will bring her her lunch at midday, and her tea at teatime. You will not bring her her dinner, as she eats with the family at that time. You will not join her unless she requests that of you. Her wish is your command.”

After her speech, the old woman grew quiet. She did not speak again for the rest of the walk through the expansive grounds, despite a few attempts from Dorothea to ask her questions. 

In part, however, Dorothea was glad the woman didn’t want to speak, because it gave her time to process the information she’d been given.

_ Help her change? Help her bathe? Is the lady of the house not able to do these things on her own? I understand bringing her food and attending her during her lessons, but do I really have to help her with every little thing? _

Dorothea did not let the annoyance that these thoughts brought show on her face. Instead, she adopted a vapid smile and continued to follow the woman closely. After what felt like an era of walking, they finally arrived at a heavy set of wooden doors. The woman opened them, and spoke to Dorothea once more.

“You will knock before entering the lady’s chambers.”

This juxtaposition almost made Dorothea frown. 

Inside the room, sitting at a small table by the window, a woman and a man sat, leaning together and talking lowly. They both looked up when the door opened.

“Lady Edelgard, do not sit so close to a man in such a manner. You never know who might barge in unannounced.”

This time, Dorothea did cut eyes at the woman, incredulously. Edelgard spoke what Dorothea was thinking.

“You mean in the way you just did?”

The old woman didn’t respond directly to Edelgard’s comment. “I have brought the new handmaiden.” She bowed to Edelgard and then swiftly took her leave.

Internally, Dorothea floundered, having lost her one (predominantly silent) support in this situation. She’d been thrown to the wolves. She decided to just play dumb, smile, and wait for instruction.

Edelgard regarded her critically. Dorothea could feel the lavender eyes studying her, as if she were scanning her for weaknesses. Then, the lady sighed, tossing her snow-white hair, and stood. 

“Leave us, Hubert.”

“As you wish.” The man, Hubert, stood. Dorothea wished for nothing more in that moment than to be wearing her opera stilettos, because the man seemed to tower over her. His expression, demeanor, hair, and clothes were all dark, and she felt herself shrinking under his gaze. Then, surprisingly, he bowed.

Dorothea nodded a bow back, and Hubert left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Edelgard approached Dorothea. She gave her another appraising look, and then went back to her seat at the table, motioning for Dorothea to join her. She complied.

_ Quiet compliance. Right. That’s how I’ll survive this. _

“I can guess at what you’ve been told about your job,” Edelgard started. “I don’t actually expect you to help me dress or bathe, but that is what is  _ expected  _ of  _ you _ .” She turned and looked out the window. “My last handmaiden was fired for not doing what was expected of her. Nothing I said would change my father’s mind. So,” she turned back to Dorothea, “You will have to act like you’re doing it. Stand by me while I dress, sit by me in the bath. Keep up appearances. After all, you never know when someone might barge in here and catch us unawares.” An eye roll followed. “Other than that, however, your duties will likely be the same as your previous job.”

_ You don’t know how wrong you are.  _ Dorothea felt a smirk rise, but quashed it.

“Your previous lady, Lady Martritz, spoke very highly of you in her letter.” Edelgard looked pointedly at Dorothea, who took this as a cue to speak. She cleared her throat.

“Ah, yes! I’m glad. I was very happy working for her.”

“I see. It must have been hard, having her leave for Faerghus and you stay behind.”

Dorothea smiled sadly. “Well, you can’t take every piece of furniture with you when you move.”

_ Where did that come from?  _ Dorothea was an actress first, and playing the poor victim was in her repertoire, but the bitterness behind her tone surprised even her.

Edelgard’s gaze softened. “Is that really how you see yourself? As impersonal as furniture?”

_ Is it? _

Dorothea blinked, suddenly taken aback. Edelgard had reached out and was now holding her hand. 

“It’s not like that here.”

Dorothea didn’t have to force this smile.

  
  
  


A month passed.

Edelgard seemed to be a very genuine person. As Dorothea began working for her, she found that her cover wasn’t going to be as much of a chore as she thought. She did wake the lady in the mornings and bring her breakfast, did bring her lunch and tea, and even attended her lessons, but Edelgard was fairly independent and didn’t ask much of her. She even provided ways for Dorothea to keep herself busy; books, sketchbooks, and embroidery. Dorothea didn’t miss that all of these activities were meant to keep her quiet, however; typical handmaiden pastimes seemed to bank a lot on being seen and not heard. When Edelgard had piano lessons, Dorothea wanted nothing more than to sing along to the little folk songs she played. She found herself looking longingly towards the music hall whenever she passed, wanting to pick out a little melody and sing for a while.

Even her sketches tended more towards the musical variety, melodies dotting the margins of her papers as she hummed quietly.

“Dorothea?” Edelgard pulled her out of her daydream. “Would you bring me a new bottle of oil from my vanity?”

“Of course,” Dorothea closed her sketchbook and stood, nodding. She crossed the bathroom to the gorgeous white marble vanity, humming in thought as she chose a new scent. She settled on one full of roses, and selected a handful of petals from the jar next to it. Edelgard had seemed tense for the past few days, and, though Dorothea’s station in this house was one of servitude, she genuinely wanted to cheer the girl up. When she got back to Edelgard, she uncorked the bottle and dripped a few drops into the bath, and then held the petals in her palm and blew, letting them rain down into the water. Edelgard brought her hands to her face to hide a flush, laughing.

“You spoil me, as always, Dorothea.”

“Anything to see your smile, my lady.” Dorothea knelt by the bath, crossing her arms over the edge of the tub and resting her head there. “You seemed upset this morning. Is there anything I can do to help?”

Edelgard leaned her head back, eyes closing. “Unless you can become a handsome lord and sweep me away from all of my troubles, I’m afraid not.” Her eyes opened, looking up at the ceiling. “Ferdinand and his father are coming this weekend.”

Dorothea wracked her brain. Edelgard had spoken of Ferdinand von Aegir before, if only in passing. “I thought you and Ferdinand were friends? Why are you dreading his visit?”

“It’s not him, it’s his father. The slimy dastard is always trying to undermine my father. This visit is the latest step in his scheme.” Edelgard fell silent, closing her eyes again, but frustration creased her brow.

It legitimately troubled Dorothea to see her in such low spirits. Softly, she shuffled around so that she was behind Edelgard’s head and poured a drop of oil on her hands, rubbing them together. Gently, she pressed her fingers to the lady’s temples and began rubbing slowly.

“Don’t make that face,” she said with levity, “You’ll get wrinkles early if you keep it up.”

Edelgard’s eyes opened, and a small smile graced her face, one that did not reach her eyes. “If only premature wrinkles were my only problem.”

“It might help if you talk about it,” Dorothea suggested. Edelgard’s smile fell, and she shut her eyes again. Worried that she’d offended her, Dorothea stilled, removing her hands, but Edelgard whispered, “Please, keep going.”

She complied, and they stayed like that for a few minutes. Dorothea took this opportunity to really look at her lady, in a way that was different from how she saw her every day. Edelgard looked so much more vulnerable in this moment, her usual self-assuredness gone. Eyes traced the contours of her face. She really had wonderful bone structure, Dorothea thought, the high cheekbones of nobility, and the clear, glowing complexion of someone who not only had the money to pay for the best treatments, but knew how to use them. Dorothea would know, as she’d done more than her fair share of snooping around when Edelgard wasn’t in her room. But the way Edelgard’s brows gently knit together belied underlying tension, and, Dorothea figured, a chance of premature wrinkles. She smoothed her thumbs over Edelgard’s brow, hoping to release that tension. Then, Edelgard opened her eyes again, but she didn’t look at Dorothea. 

“Ferdinand and I are to be married.”

  
  
  


On the evening of the duke’s arrival, Edelgard genuinely needed help dressing. There was to be a grand feast and ball held, requiring her dressing in an elaborate gown.

Dorothea worked the dress with deft fingers, knowing her way around such complicated garments from her time as an underling at the opera. The dress Edelgard was given was nowhere near as extravagant and flashy as the operatic gowns, but the gowns she’d worn in the opera were not as high-quality as what Edelgard wore. Scarlet ribbons crisscrossed with gold stitching, a cream-colored satin ran around the off-the-shoulder top, and a black underskirt filled out and created a shadow on the floor. Gold heels and a golden headpiece topped off the look, as well as more genuine jewelry than Dorothea had ever seen.

What Dorothea herself wore was neither elaborate nor extravagant, though it was a step up from her usual uniform. A high-neck, black dress with three-quarter length sleeves that came down past her knees. Black heels with silver buckles and a silver ribbon holding her hair half-up were her only accessories.

When Edelgard was fully dressed, Dorothea had to hold back a squeal of delight. The lady looked marvelous, like a doll. 

“Edie, you have to let me do your makeup.”

Edelgard blinked, taken a bit aback, and Dorothea realized how many lines she’d just crossed. Referring to her lady so informally, even with a nickname? Insisting something upon her? She felt herself go pale.

Then, Edelgard smiled softly. “‘Edie’? That’s such a sweet name.” She turned to her vanity and picked up a dish covered in little pots of pigment. “I’d like that, Dorothea.”

Able to breathe again, Dorothea relaxed, taking the dish from Edelgard and kneeling before her. “Close your eyes,” she said, and Edelgard complied.

As she dabbed color above her lady’s eyes, Dorothea reflected upon the moment they’d had in the bath. A smile found her lips.This was like that, an unguarded moment of Edelgard’s, completely trusting her handmaiden. As she patted shimmer onto those noble cheekbones, she got to appreciate the beauty of her lady completely done up.

_ Careful now, _ Dorothea thought to herself,  _ Can’t chase that line of thinking. _

  
  
  


Hubert was waiting when they entered the ballroom. Dorothea noticed that he put himself together rather nicely, though likely only to match Edelgard’s level of elegance.

Dorothea had seen Hubert a few times since their first meeting, and she’d found herself drawn to him, if only because she found his way of behaving to be rather strange. What she’d initially misunderstood to be infatuation with her lady, she now understood to be a deep, unshaking loyalty, with roots so entangled and entrenched that she couldn’t find the source. As she stood beside him now, at the side of the ballroom, while Edelgard prepared to greet the guests of honor, she regarded him out of the corner of her eye. His expression was always so hard, it was a wonder she’d thought he’d been crushing on Lady Edelgard. A man who put that face towards the world likely would never love.

“Introducing… Duke Aegir and his son, Ferdinand von Aegir!”

Dorothea turned her attention back to the ballroom, eager to see what Edelgard’s apparent future husband looked like, and her breath caught in her throat. Ferdinand was, in one word, gorgeous; strawberry blonde hair falling past his shoulders, a light but tanned complexion, and the regal bearing and confident swagger that she’d seen opera boys put on, but tenfold. Edelgard took his hand, smiling politely, but her eyes remained rather distant.

Dorothea cut eyes back to Hubert, intending to ask a question, but was surprised to see that his own expression had softened. Her eyebrows raised the tiniest bit.

_ I’ll put a pin in that for later. _

“Hubert,” she whispered, and the hard grin was back in the blink of an eye. Hubert turned to her. Dorothea continued, “Why does my lady Edelgard seem so… distant?”

Hubert, to his credit, looked mildly surprised by this observation, an expression that Dorothea mentally catalogued in her collection of Hubert expressions, which consisted of ‘smug and stony silence’ and ‘whatever that reaction to Ferdinand was’.

“You’ve picked up on that?” Hubert responded.

Dorothea resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “She’s my lady, and I’m her handmaiden. I’d like to think I know her, at least a little bit.”

Hubert smirked. “As you would. Has Lady Edelgard told you about their relationship?”

“Just the other day, she said they were to be married. She didn’t want to talk about it, though. She was…” Dorothea wondered just how far she should go, but she found herself to be genuinely worried for Edelgard. “Unhappy.”

“Neither of them are particularly happy with the arrangement, though Ferdinand is perhaps better at putting on a good face.”

“You mean bullshitting it,” Dorothea said under her breath, but Hubert heard her all the same and huffed out a laugh. His expression turned sinister then, realizing he may have let on too much.

“I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that a handmaiden is, above all, discrete.”

Dorothea faced forward, steeling herself against his eyes. “Of course. My lips are sealed.” Hubert, apparently satisfied with that response, faced forward as well, and the two stood in not-quite-companionable silence as the ball commenced. 

  
  
  


“Oh…” Edelgard moaned as they entered her room. Dorothea gently held her arm; her lady’s eyes were only half-open and she looked about ready to fall over from exhaustion, and perhaps some excessive intake. 

“Come on, my lady, sit down and I’ll help you get out of your gown.” She led her to the bed, and Edelgard sat, flopping back to laying down quickly. Dorothea laughed as she began removing her lady’s shoes. 

“Don’t fall asleep just yet, you’ll ruin your beautiful dress if you sleep in it. And we must remove your makeup.”

Edelgard sighed, sitting back up, and she looked down at Dorothea. Her eyes were heavy, and there was a flush on her cheeks, likely due to the alcohol. She stretched out her leg as soon as Dorothea removed the shoe, flexing her toes.

“Those shoes are so painful… and everyone wanted to dance…”

“Of course they did,” Dorothea mused as she removed the other shoe, “Everyone wanted to dance with you because of how beautiful you are. They all wanted a chance to see you up close.”

_ Where did that come from?  _ Dorothea was glad that Edelgard couldn’t see her face from that angle. 

“You think I’m beautiful?” Edelgard asked, and Dorothea looked up to see her lady smiling. She reached out a hand and caressed the side of her handmaiden’s face. “I would have chosen to dance with  _ you _ .”

Dorothea felt her face grow hot. “You flatter me, my lady. What a stir that would have caused.”

“Hmm…” Edelgard yawned, and Dorothea stood and grasped her arms. 

“You must stand up, my lady, so that we can get this dress off-”

“Edie.”

Dorothea blinked. “Huh?”

“You can… call me Edie. When we’re alone.” The smile Edelgard gave her was something that reached down deep inside of Dorothea and squeezed right at her heart. She smiled back.

“Of course, Edie.”

Edelgard stood, and Dorothea set about the lengthy task of undressing her. When she removed the dress and set to unlacing the corset, her fingers brushed the bare skin of Edelgard’s bare back, and the lady shivered. Dorothea blushed furiously.

_ What has gotten into me? I’ve never been this… off-guard. Anyway, I probably just touched a sensitive spot. _

Once Edelgard had her nightgown on, Dorothea led her to the washroom and began removing her makeup. The lady leaned her cheek heavily into Dorothea’s palm as she caressed her face with the washcloth.

_ I can’t be imagining this. This goes way beyond wishful thinking. _

Still, she couldn’t help but smile.

  
  
  


“Stay with me.”

Dorothea turned, already having reached the door of Edelgard’s room to go to her own chambers. “Pardon?”

Edelgard was sitting up in bed, arm extended. “Stay with me tonight. I don’t… want to be alone.”

“Of course.” Dorothea was glad she’d already turned the lamps off, so that Edelgard couldn’t see in the low light how a blush had spread across her face. “Allow me to put on my nightgown, and I’ll be right back.”

By the time she returned, Edelgard was laying back down, and all was quiet. Dorothea almost felt disappointed, resigning herself to returning to her chambers, when a muffled “Well?” came from the bed. Dorothea smiled as she approached. Edelgard had already pulled the blankets back on the empty side of the bed, and Dorothea slipped right in. She nearly startled when a hand wormed its way out of the bedcovers and grasped her own.

Dorothea turned on her side, facing Edelgard, and squeezed her hand. The warmth there echoed a growing warmth in her heart. Then, slowly, she fell asleep.

  
  


Something changed after that. Dorothea could tell that morning, when she woke up to Edelgard’s sleeping face next to her. She seemed softer, and let down her guard more around her handmaiden. The girl who had so severely appraised her on her first day was gone.

A change had also overcome Hubert, but in the opposite direction. He became more severe with Dorothea when Edelgard was not around, criticizing her work frequently, interfering wherever and whenever he could. Dorothea thought, for a while, that it may have had something to do with the night of the ball, but one day, she walked in on Hubert arguing violently with someone else.

“-you can’t know that for sure!”

“You can’t be so daft, so thick-headed, that you can’t see that that’s exactly-” Hubert cut off when he noticed Dorothea had entered the room. He straightened up, schooling his features. Ferdinand, too, visibly composed himself.

“Ah, Dorothea. You did not announce your entry.”

Even when she’d caught him in such an unusual position, Dorothea found that Hubert would stop at nothing to take a dig at her. How annoyingly, typically Hubert.

“My apologies.” She bowed. Upon straightening, she continued, “Lady Edelgard requests your company on a walk about the grounds.”

“Very well,” he acquiesced, approaching the door. “Dorothea.” He nodded to her. “... Ferdinand.”

Dorothea noticed the set of Hubert’s jaw as he said the other man’s name before he turned and left the room. She didn’t have time to ruminate on that, however, because as soon as the door shut behind him, Ferdinand let out a loud sigh and slumped into a chair.

She couldn’t stop herself. “What was  _ that  _ all about?”

Immediately, her hands flew to her mouth. That outburst was sure to get her in trouble.

Instead of reprimanding her, however, Ferdinand gestured to the chair opposite him. “Do you have time? Sit with me.”

“I’m not sure that’s proper, Marquess von Aegir.”

“Ferdinand, please. At least when no one else is around,” and that statement should have made Dorothea pause, if she weren’t so damned curious about what he had to say. So she sat, hands folded in her lap, and nodded to him.

“As Lady Edelgard’s handmaiden, you are no doubt privy to her secrets. I will not ask you to share them, but simply request that you do not share mine.”

Remembering Hubert’s words from the night of the ball, Dorothea recited; “A handmaiden is, above all, discrete.”

Ferdinand huffed out a laugh. “That sounds like something Hubert would say,” and Dorothea didn’t miss the fond expression that crossed his features. It all fell into place.

“Oh. Oh, my God. Oh, my God!” She covered her mouth. Ferdinand leaned forward urgently, shushing her. She dropped her voice to a whisper. “ _ You’re in love with him!” _

Ferdinand buried his face in his hands. “Despite my better judgement, yes. But please, do not repeat this, especially not to him.” Dorothea’s mind whirled, turning back to the times she’d seen Hubert react to Ferdinand’s presence, but nodded assent to his request. This was not her place to meddle.

“I… I told him I wanted to break off the engagement to Lady Edelgard. I said it wouldn’t make her happy, which is true, and that it wouldn’t make me happy, either, which is also true. But I didn’t, I can’t, let him know that it’s also because… I have my sights set on someone else.” He peeked through his fingers. “We were arguing because… he figured out that I am, in fact, in love with someone else, but he thinks it’s someone I could just court on the side. As if I would do that, anyway!” He sighed. “A noble has a duty to their people, to do whatever it takes to make sure they’re safe and successful. But I can’t. Not this.”

“Oh, Ferdie…” Dorothea sighed. She leaned forward and took his hands in hers. “I’m so sorry.” But still, she held her tongue about Hubert. She needed to be sure.

  
  
  


“What were you talking to Ferdinand about?” Edelgard asked. Dorothea nearly choked on her tea. It was mid-afternoon on that same day, and both Hubert and Ferdinand had gone home. As they’d taken to doing most days, the two were sharing tea in the sitting room that adjoined Edelgard’s chambers. Until that moment, they’d been doing so in companionable silence.

“Wha-How do you-”

“A maid saw you holding his hands in the drawing room.” Edelgard looked at the tea in her own cup, and then out the window. Her expression was hard to read. “It’s an… interesting choice, if not a bit stereotypical.” Ice was apparent in her words. 

“No. No, Edie…” Edelgard bristled at the nickname, and Dorothea backtracked. “My lady, please. It’s not like that. He needed comfort.”

Wrong choice of words.

Edelgard still wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Comfort? Like how you comforted me the night of the ball?”

“He’s in love with someone else!” Immediately realizing the potential negative impact of her words, she continued, tone becoming more frantic. “I don’t love him, and he’s in love with someone else, so much so that he wants to break off the engagement, because he doesn’t want to give his heart to a marriage he would not sincerely feel.”

Finally, Edelgard met her eyes, expression shocked. “He told you all of this?”

“He needed someone to talk to. He doesn't have anyone else who listens. Not even Hubert.”

Edelgard looked concerned. “I would think he’s the only one Hubert does listen to, after me.”

“He can’t. Or won’t. Not about this.”

“Hubert is no more in favor of this marriage than I am. Why would they disagree…?” Edelgard’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God.”

Edelgard’s reaction cued Dorothea to the fact that her suspicions may have been correct. “Oh.”

“Could he be?”

“Jealous?”

Edelgard shot up out of her chair. “It all makes sense now! Why Hubert never liked discussing the marriage… he knew I didn’t want it, but he couldn’t let me know why  _ he  _ didn’t! And he’s grown more and more quiet with his judgements about Ferdinand, much more so than when we were younger. And… and he knows Ferdinand wants to call of the wedding because he’s in love with someone else… Oh, Hubert.” She sat back down, defeated. 

“Edie.” Dorothea tried out the nickname again, and this time, was met with a receptive reaction. “You have to swear you won’t reveal this to anyone else. I’ve already broken Ferdinand’s trust by telling you this much.” Edelgard nodded, and Dorothea leaned over so her lips were right next to Edelgard’s ear. 

_ “The person Ferdinand is in love with… is Hubert.” _

Edelgard gasped. 

  
  
  


That night, Edelgard invited Dorothea to stay in her bed again. As soon as both girls were settled, Edelgard turned to Dorothea, an excited glint in her eye.

“We have to do something about those two.”

Dorothea laughed softly. “Is this in their interest or yours?”

“Theirs, of course. Hubert is my best friend and closest confidant, and Ferdinand… I’ve known him for so long, I want him to be happy, too.” Edelgard sighed. “I’ve always known I’d marry for political reasons, so I’m prepared to be wed to someone I don’t love.”

“Oh, Edie…”

“But they deserve to be happy. They’re so close to it.”

“You deserve to be happy, too.”

“And what of your happiness, Dorothea? Am I to believe you’re happy here, working as a servant?”

Dorothea took pause. “Edie… as long as it’s with you, I’m happy.” She was surprised by the words that left her mouth, and how much she meant them.

Edelgard just sighed sadly, though. “Don’t say that like you mean it. I don’t know what I was thinking, asking you that.”

Dorothea hummed. “Edelgard, you can’t spend forever only concerned with other people’s happiness. Your own happiness is important, too.”

Edelgard was silent for a moment.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever said that to me before.” Tears welled up in her eyes and began sliding down her face.

“Oh, Edie,” Dorothea said, reaching over to brush the tears away. She leaned towards her and pressed a kiss to her lady’s cheek, then the other one. Both froze. And then, Edelgard leaned in to press her lips to Dorothea’s.

She needed no more invitation. Dorothea pressed forward into the kiss, bringing her hand back up to cup Edelgard’s face. Edelgard slipped one hand into Dorothea’s hair, cradling the back of her head, and pulled her closer. It didn’t take long for the kiss to become frenzied, open-mouthed and feverish. The hand in Dorothea’s hair tightened its grip, and she trailed her mouth down to Edelgard’s neck. Her lady was breathing heavily, and only let Dorothea be distracted for a moment before pulling her back to her lips. A moment more, and she pulled away, freeing up her hands to begin tugging at her own nightgown. Dorothea put own hands on Edelgard’s.

“Allow me.”

  
  
  


Edelgard was not in the bed when Dorothea awoke. Realizing this, the handmaiden jolted awake, sitting upright, panicking about the time. But her lady was there, just sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. She had a solemn look about her, gaze facing towards the window.

“Edie?”

The other woman sighed, her shoulders slumping heavily. Dorothea was about to ask what was wrong, but Edelgard beat her to it.

“I know you’re not a real handmaiden.”


End file.
